


Up Against the Wall

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim asks Blair a question.  Talking and stuff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up Against the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This story was previously published in "WotH2", though this version is   
>  not exactly the same. 
> 
> I started writing this just for fun to annoy some friends with a bit of   
> a teaser, but sometimes it's hard to ignore the voices nagging at me   
> (both inside my head and out ).

## Up Against the Wall

by JC

Author's webpage: <http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/jcmain.html>

Author's disclaimer: The characters from the TV series "The Sentinel" are not my property,   
and I am not making money off of them. That's it.

* * *

Up Against the Wall by J.C. 

"So, what's it gonna be, Sandburg?" 

Jim had Blair pinned against the wall with the force of his gaze and, very simply, his sheer _presence_. Tension was threaded through Blair's whole body, stiff and tight as if steel rods had replaced his bones... dick hard... back straight... unable to clench his fingers...his eyes locked on Jim's face. In fact, he had started to feel that if he tried to turn his head away, his neck might just snap. 

Shock had clogged his throat and he couldn't swallow it down, couldn't get enough air to answer the question that Jim had just asked him, or the question that had started it all... 

Blair had gotten home just a little while earlier, fresh from a Friday night date with a woman he had met the night before. He hadn't really been surprised to find Jim sitting on the couch, still up despite the late hour. Jim always seemed to wait up for him, he realized. Sometimes it would just be to say 'That you, Chief?' through the railing, as if he didn't really know. Other times, Blair would just hear the creak and rustle of Jim turning over in bed, finally able to settle into sleep once Blair walked through the door. And fairly often, Jim would be sitting down on the couch, watching a late movie or some sports highlights, and they would have a talk with the flickering television in the background providing the only light. 

So, when Blair had walked in, still on a high from a date that had gone incredibly well, as far as first dates go, he smiled when he saw his partner in his usual spot on the sofa. Jim was taking up space in his customary half sprawled position as if unable to shake the habit of being at least partially alert at all times, and in his typical at-home attire for that time of year--comfortable sweatpants, old tee-shirt, and white socks. Immediately, he had filled Jim in on how his evening had gone, telling the tale as he hung up his jacket and went into the kitchen to scrounge up something appropriate for a late night snack. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. Just standard operating procedure for the Ellison/Sandburg household. 

Until Jim had dropped the remote, and quietly asked a question, his eyes fixed on Blair's ass as Blair looked into the refrigerator. 

"What about me?" 

Blair had slowly turned, a puzzled frown on his face, but before he could respond with a question of his own, Jim had gotten up, and was... 'stalking' was the word that leaped to Blair's mind... _stalking_ towards him. Slow, steady, purposeful. Blair backed up, not even realizing it until the wall behind him halted his movement. Then Jim was in his face, asking another question. 

"Have you ever considered me?" 

So quiet, so low, that Blair felt the whispered vibration of it before the words actually registered to his ears. That was when the tension began creeping up his body, starting in the soles of his feet, gathering strength, heading upwards to make certain detours along the way, until he was trapped in place as effectively as if Jim had pushed him, and held him there with physical force. 

"You just met someone new, you'll probably meet someone new next month, and the month after that... just like almost every month since I've known you. Women. Beautiful women. Tall or smart or exotic. Sweet and innocent or full of trouble. Over and over. But is it what you want... what you need? Do you know what you're looking for? Or maybe you aren't looking for anything, but _running_ from something." 

Blair felt the strength of Jim's gaze as they stared at one another, the blue eyes boring into him, as if looking straight into his brain, trying to read his mind. 

"So, _have_ you ever considered me? " Jim asked again. "Anytime during all of that playing around... playing the field? Because if it's good sex that you want, I can give you that. I can give you that and then some, but you should know that I don't play. It would be you and me. That's it. A complete partnership. Like a ring on your finger that you feel in your soul. Have you ever thought about _that_ , Sandburg?" 

Heat seemed to consume Blair. Jim hadn't moved, but it felt like he had gotten closer, so close it burned. 

"I've watched you running around, moving from this one to that one, sowing your wild oats like a teenager. I've seen you practice your moves at the station, at the university, and every place in between. But are you man enough to make a move on _me_? I'm offering you a reason to change. A reason to take a chance. If you want it. If you think you could want me... love me." 

Blair couldn't even pin down his emotions. They were running quickfire through him, like his insides were melting. How could anyone stand up to that kind of declaration? It wasn't a question of loving Jim, but had he ever really given Jim serious _consideration_? His eyes were watering, blurring the sight of Jim's face, but it wasn't tears, he assured himself. It was just his eyeballs melting along with the rest of him. If he stood there any longer, he'd just be a puddle at Jim's feet--the world's first puddle with a hard-on. 

"But you have to be sure. _Really_ sure. You can walk away from this, and I promise that I won't bring it up again. There won't be any pressure, or recriminating looks, or jealous fits. I'll hold on to the friendship that we have. I'd still want that, no matter what. But don't just go along with it, if your heart isn't really in it. Don't choose to be with me, if you think that you'll regret giving up all of those women out there waiting for you. Don't take what I'm offering without being able to give as much in return. I don't just want sex with you...if that's all you'd want with me, I'd rather jerk myself off." 

Blinking rapidly, feeling that he just might die if he didn't get air in his lungs soon, Blair watched Jim lick his lips, and tension shot through him anew. 

"So, what's it gonna be, Sandburg?" 

And then Jim finally did touch him. A hand gently running through his hair, the other one brushing lightly against his hip, until his own hand was taken in a loose grip. 

"Come on, Chief. You and me. Think about it." 

Blair couldn't decide whether it was a plea, a request, or a demand, and the next thing he knew, Jim was walking away, climbing the stairs to the bedroom above. Almost immediately, he heard the familiar sounds of the bed creaking slightly and sheets rustling as Jim settled in for the night. 

Washed in the ghostly light from the television, his breath finally coming in big heaves, Blair stood there, just as Jim had left him, pinned in place by the weight of the possibilities, unable to do anything else but... think about it. 

* * *

Ass numb, muscles cramping, Blair rose from where he had been sitting. Once his breathing had gotten back to normal, tension slowly easing from his body, he had simply slid down the wall until he hit the floor. And he had stayed there, still thinking. 

In a calmer state, it was easier to catalogue what he was feeling, and he examined each emotion in turn. He thought about what Jim had said, over and over, until he was sure that he could recite every bit of dialogue back...word for word. And what Jim was offering...it seemed so simple, and yet utterly complicated. 

By the time he could detect the faintest bit of light, indicating that the night was almost over, he still had no idea what to do, and he didn't stop to think about why he actually found himself climbing the stairs. His knees protested each step, his brain itself seemed to ache from over-usage, and he constantly had to remind himself to breathe, but he made it to the top. 

To Jim. 

Decision made, he thought. Still, he stood there, unsure of what the next move should be. He was too tired to talk, but the idea of that stretch of bed next to Jim, sheets warmed by Jim's body, moved him forward. And after all, it couldn't be any stranger for him to strip down to his underwear and slide in next to his slumbering partner, than it had been for Jim to pin him against the wall with all of that quietly emotional _talk_. 

Jim Ellison stringing more than two sentences together about relationships, and Blair Sandburg making a move without a word. 'Strange' wasn't the half of it. 

Blair couldn't count the number of times that he had been close to Jim, close enough to feel the solid heat of him, even as close as they had been earlier downstairs, though not with the same intent. But he could count the number of times that he had actually been up in Jim's bedroom, and he'd _never_ been in his bed. Yet, that didn't stop him from getting comfortable, taking refuge in the easy familiarity of having Jim so near, sighing at the pleasure of the new sensations as he fitted himself more snugly against his partner, eliminating even that little bit of personal space that had been left between them. 

In the dimness of the early morning, the features of Jim's face were almost indistinct, but the pair of blue eyes that suddenly opened burned brightly. Startled, Blair jerked against Jim, heart rate spiking. The late hour, heavy thinking, and crazy turn of events had distracted him from the absence of Jim's usual snoring, and from the realization that _Jim_ , of all people, probably heard him as soon as his foot hit the first creaky stair. He barely had time to stare back before Jim was kissing him. 

And for the second time that night, he had trouble breathing. Jim was _kissing_ him. A hell of a kiss, a physical kiss, a raw, hungry, intense kiss that involved wet tongues, and clenching hands, and quick pushes of the hips where dicks were bumping eagerly. A kiss that, all by itself, lent credibility to Jim's promise about good sex. 

The idea of having sex with Jim inflamed him, making him giddy with desire, all thought of women past or women future swept from his mind by Jim's hard, hot length grinding into his own. He reached down, releasing the hold that he'd had on one of Jim's biceps, anxious to discover the feel of Jim, silky and solid, in his grasp. 

The firm grip on his wrist and the sudden end to the kiss was the last thing he expected. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes to find Jim's intense gaze studying him again. His hand was moved away from its target, and he felt the shift as Jim moved back a little, while they both took deep breaths, reaching for control. 

Even though Jim didn't say a word, the questions were there between them--everything that had been asked earlier. With a sigh, Blair decided that maybe his silent approach hadn't been the best answer. But he wasn't sure if he was ready to face it all, especially on no sleep, with his hormones raging, and the world, as he had known it, already tilted on its axis. 

He had always been good at thinking on his feet, presenting himself logically and coherently, even those times when he was making it up as he went along, and he hoped that in the new bizarro world of Sandburg and Ellison, it was still true. Taking the plunge, he started at the beginning, with what Jim had first asked him. 

"What about you, Jim? What about you would have made me think that anything like this was even remotely possible? In all the years I've known you, that little outburst downstairs was the most you've ever even said at one time about you and me...the kind of relationship we have. I've learned to take the gestures, the smiles, the relaxed way you are with no one but me, as indications of our _friendship_. I've seen you out of your mind to have sex with a woman when you had that reaction to pheromones. I've seen you when you thought another woman was 'the one'. What about _you_ giving _me_ a clue that either of those inclinations could have been turned in my direction?" 

Jim stayed silent, but Blair hadn't really expected an answer. Jim had had his say... it was his turn at the mike. And, despite being unsure before, he found that he suddenly had plenty of words. 

"Have I ever considered you?" he continued. "No, though I may have had a few fantasies about the _possibility_. Groping on the sofa, kissing in the truck, watching bad movies and eating take-out when we're old and gray. I don't think I can even remember the last time that I thought about a 'life' _after_ you. But have I ever seriously considered the _reality_ of... _this_? Of what you've offered? Of offering the same to you? No way, Jim. I never wanted to lose your friendship. You're the best friend I ever had, and I told you that's what it was about. Nothing was more important than that. Not even you being a Sentinel or me writing dissertations." 

This time, it was Blair who moved away, putting more distance between them as he rolled onto his back, leaving Jim on his side looking down on him. He was starting to feel overwhelmed by the things running through his mind, and he wished desperately to go back to the point where they had been kissing themselves senseless. It crossed his mind to just say, 'But that was then, this is now, let's fuck and live happily ever after'. In fact, he was _very_ tempted to do that. But he couldn't. 

"You see my dating... you see _me_... shit." He started over. "What makes you think that I don't know what I'm looking for? What makes you think that I'm running away from _anything_? You see what everyone else sees, and I let that go. It's actually kind of an advantage. The short, long-haired bookworm being seen as a womanizer. Having a rep as a lover is almost as good as that of a fighter. You still have _balls_ , you know. But contrary to popular belief, I don't screw every woman I take out to dinner. Sure, I've had to juggle dates every once in a while, but there have been plenty of times when the women in my life have been friends, rather than lovers. I like women. I _love_ women. But is it so strange to think that I'm just looking for the same thing that everyone else is, and that I don't want to settle for less?" 

Jim reached for him, or at least Blair thought Jim was reaching for him, but he moved out of the way, pushing himself up to sit against the railing, hugging his knees to him, chin resting on them. He didn't look at Jim... wasn't sure if he could. 

"It's my fault, I guess, if you think that I'm just some kid out trying to have a good time. Picking up sexual satisfaction wherever I can find it. But, damn it, I know all about _partnership_. You should know _that_ , Jim. Have you ever doubted that I was there for you? Have I ever made you feel that I wouldn't take any chance, go any distance for the sake of _our_ partnership? For _us_? I know commitment. I've known it in my academic life, I've learned it with the police thing, and I always hoped to have it with the love of my life, someday. I'm really sorry if you don't know that about me. I thought that the whole 'table leg' philosophy was just an old, bad joke." 

Blair felt tears threatening, and he longed for the release. Anything to ease some of the emotional havoc twisting inside him, but the memory of Jim's words stopped him... 

With a harsh chuckle, he went on, "Am I _man_ enough, Jim? Enough of a man to take a chance on you? To make a change for you? To make a _move_ on you? Let's just say that obviously I'm not the man _you_ think I am." 

Blair couldn't believe that he had _ever_ thought that heart-to-heart talks were a good thing. Maybe Jim had always had the right idea. He didn't see anything good about cutting himself open, exposing his insides for Jim's view. His only solace lay in the fact that at least his dick wasn't hard anymore. Thankfully, it had retreated. And that was his plan, too. Full scale retreat. 

After clearing up one last thing. 

"You gave me the opportunity to make a choice. I could choose to be with you all the way, as long as I was sure. As long as it wasn't just sex. And I guess I sort of got off on the wrong foot by just jumping into bed with you. Or probably proved your point--that I'm just one big hormone. I suppose I should be flattered that you even thought I was capable of making such a choice... such a commitment. But I just realized something. That for all of that talk about partnership, and relationships, and _you_ and me... _I_ was the only one under the microscope. And I was so blown away by what you were implying we could have, that what you *hadn't* said went right over my head." 

Blair got up, walking around the bed towards the stairs. Jim still didn't say anything, but the sound of Jim's breathing suddenly sounded loud to Blair's ears. His final comment ended up directed at Jim's back. 

"Your offer would have sounded perfect for a whole lot longer if you had at least mentioned something about loving me, and not just saving me from myself." 

The trip down the stairs was easier on his knees, but a lot harder on his heart. He hadn't paid any attention to how light it had gotten outside until he was standing at the balcony doors. Morning. The morning after, he thought, grimly. After a first date with Mindy Hawkins, after a first kiss with Jim Ellison, after.... 

He stopped that train of thought, too tired for the consequences, and quickly dismissing the idea of showering and facing the day on zero sleep, he went to his room and closed the door. 

* * *

By the time that Blair realized that the tap-tapping sound he was hearing wasn't just a malicious woodpecker that had taken up residence in his head, it stopped. Unfortunately, his head kept up its insistent pounding anyway. Next, there was a change in the air as his bedroom door was opened, bringing with it the steamy, spicy scent of his favorite herbal tea. He almost moaned from both pleasure and pain as the strong vapors invaded his room. The idea of a hot mugful was definitely welcome, but that meant that he would have to _move_ and he was sure that his head would protest. 

"It's almost noon, Chief, and uh... Mindy called and left a message about your lunch date." 

Blair huffed quietly, cursing the fact that his day seemed destined to be as complicated as his night had been. Flopping over onto his back, he cracked one eye open and peered at Jim standing in his doorway. 

Jim, who had made just the right tea to help soothe his headache. Jim, who had come to wake him up so he wouldn't be late for a _date_ , for god's sake, with Miss First Date herself, after everything that had happened between them the night before. 

There was steam rising from the mug in Jim's hand, but even though it was definitely hot, Jim wasn't holding it by the handle. Startled by the implications, Blair's gaze flew to Jim's face, noting the dullness of the usually sharp blue eyes. Distance, Blair thought, he's dialing down to create some distance from me. And that scared him. Did 'no guilt, no pressure, no jealousy' mean Jim wouldn't feel right showing him _anything_? 

Trying not to overreact or make Jim uncomfortable, Blair scooted up in the bed, and held out his hand, indicating the tea. 

"If that's for me, thanks, man. I could use it." 

Jim walked over and Blair couldn't help but notice the difference from the last time Jim had approached him. That predatory stalk was completely gone. As he took the offered mug, he noticed the redness of Jim's palm. 

In as normal a tone as possible, he spoke. "Hey, Jim? Your senses okay? I know that sometimes they act a little screwy when you haven't had a lot of sleep." 

"They're fine," Jim replied, looking away. But Blair could tell the minute that Jim caught himself and dialed back to normal, finally sensing the discomfort in his hand. And when Jim turned back to the door, he recognized all the signs of retreat. 

"Jim..." 

"Sandburg, I'm sorry." And he _looked_ sorry, facing Blair with an expression that Blair had only seen a few times since he'd known Jim--pained and sort of lost. "I did a fucked-up thing last night, and I apologize." 

It occurred to Blair that they had both gone too far. Reacting instead of interacting. 

"Jim, we should talk." 

Shaking his head, Jim went to the door. "I had my say, and you had yours. I think we've done enough talking. Let's just--" 

"No, that's just it, Jim. We haven't done any talking. Not talking things out." He set the mug down, and got out of the bed. "Please. We've always been able to work things out together." 

It wasn't until Jim looked at him again, that he realized he was standing there in nothing but a tee-shirt and boxers, probably not the best attire, and his bedroom probably wasn't the best place. 

"I'll be right out, okay?" 

Jim just nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Blair drank down some of his tea, hoping to fortify himself, then threw on some clothes and ran his hands quickly through his hair, before going out to where Jim was waiting. 

* * *

With a steady mantra of 'It'll be all right' going through his head, Blair approached Jim where he was sitting on the couch. Still, all of that positive thinking didn't help him know where to start. To his surprise, it was Jim who spoke first. 

"I want you to know... it's not that... I didn't mean... I never would have... I thought you'd..." 

Blair jumped in, letting Jim off of the hook. 

"Jim, I know. I know what you _meant_. I've become pretty good at getting beneath the surface of what you do and say. If I didn't know inside that you were saying you were in love with me, I never would have climbed those stairs." Shaking his head, Blair gave a little laugh, and added, "Hell, Jim, only you could tell somebody you love them and make it sound like a case for the prosecution." 

Groaning, Jim hid his face in his hands. 

Blair moved closer, and touched Jim on the shoulder. "And only I could try to show it, and make it seem like a scene from a porno flick. You know, it's not that we don't communicate, but that sometimes we need to communicate better. We're so used to taking cues from each other with minimal input, but that's not always the best way." 

Getting even closer, kneeling down, he pulled on Jim's hands, uncovering his friend's face. "So, what do you say we start over? I come in and say, 'I had a really good time with Mindy, and she's nice enough, but I don't think anything will come of it.' And you say, 'Sandburg, if you'd just sit still for two minutes, have I got a proposition for you.'" 

With a jerk, Jim pushed himself up from the couch, away from Blair, heading to the kitchen. "Stop it. No more talk, Sandburg. Besides, you have to get ready for your date." 

"That's not fair, Jim," Blair said, as he watched Jim's shaky hands pour a cup of coffee, "and you know it. I'm trying. Why can't you?" 

For several heartbeats, Jim was completely still, and then he set down his coffee cup with considerable force, though not a single drop spilled over. "Okay, Chief," he replied, "You want me to talk? I'll talk." 

Instinctively, Blair stepped back, because he couldn't miss the renewed gleam in Jim's eye, the sudden shift in body language, or the _intent_ as Jim took a step forward. 

"I'm in love with you, Blair. I'm not sure how or when, but I can think of a million reasons why. I've sat on it, kept it in, because it seemed crazy. Crazy to think that you'd ever be interested in anything other than beautiful women. Crazy to chance screwing with our friendship on the outside possibility." 

All the while, Jim was advancing on Blair, who thought he could feel the energy from Jim actually _pushing_ him. His heart beat double time and his world spun crazily backwards. Rewind and re-edit. Pinned down by Jim's steady gaze and quiet voice, once again with his back up against the wall, as if that were their special place. 

"Last night, I sat over there thinking about you, and you came home so fucking happy about being with someone else, and a question kept running around in my head -- 'What about me?' -- until I couldn't hold it in anymore. I hadn't meant for any of that to happen the way that it did. And afterwards, I lay upstairs listening to you do nothing, and I couldn't tell what you were feeling. You seemed to shut down after a while, and I was scared shitless that you were just going to walk out. I didn't know _what_ to think when you got in bed with me, but I _had_ to kiss you, had to have that. Because I'd been thinking about it for so long...about you loving me, you wanting me, you having sex with me, you _being_ with me. About you putting me out of my misery by making a move on me." 

Blair's gaze lingered on that strong, familiar face, so open and expressive as Jim told him things that he hadn't even known he had wanted to hear, and he thought about what a difference a day made. The night before, an overwhelming wave of shocked emotions had had him stiff with tension, but right then, it was something much more heartfelt that lodged in his throat and made his eyes water, and pure desire that made his dick ache with sweet pain. 

"I don't want fantasies, Chief. Not even the ones that _I_ have, those strong flashes where I can actually sense everything so clearly... the feel of you... your scent... your taste. I want it to really _be_ you and me. That's it." 

Jim's eyes closed, and Blair immediately missed that visual connection as he listened to the words that Jim whispered next. 

"I don't know what else to say." 

"How about, 'So, Sandburg, what's it gonna be?'" 

But Blair didn't wait for Jim to ask, didn't give him time or space to reconsider or retreat. He grasped Jim by the neck with one hand, pressed on his back with the other, drinking in the refreshing crystal clearness of the blue eyes as they flew open, before kissing him...hard. When that was done, when he was sure that he had Jim's undivided attention, he did some talking of his own. Reassurances and promises, declarations and affirmations, all punctuated with kisses and nibbles on the flesh that was revealed as he pulled and tore at Jim's clothes. 

Not bad for the little guy with his back against the wall, Blair thought, satisfaction running through him as he eyed several prominent hickeys on Jim's chest. And satisfaction didn't even begin to cover what he felt once he finally got his hands inside Jim's pants, on warm bare skin, fisting the heated erection that seemed alive to his touch. 

His thinking shut down altogether when Jim decided to return the favor, stuffing his hands inside Blair's sweatpants, front and back, stroking and squeezing, leaving his own marks as his mouth moved hungrily along the sweat-slicked skin of Blair's neck. And then they were kissing again, a kiss with no end, except that it did end... with a bang... with an explosion...with a virtual volcanic eruption, both of them coming, gasping incoherently as it overtook them, the evidence of it running thickly over their hands. 

Blair didn't bother to catch his breath. He wiped his wet hand on the firm mound of one of Jim's ass cheeks before grabbing two fistfuls of Jim's torn, bitten, and slobbered-on tee-shirt, commanding his partner's full attention. 

"So, somewhere in all of that, did you get that I love you, too?" Shaking Jim once for good measure to elicit an answer, which he got when Jim nodded. "And that I want to be with you, too? That I'm in this? That together I think we can do this?" 

Shake, nod, shake, nod, and finally Jim said, "Yes, Blair, I get it. You and me." 

With one last shake and a nod of his own, Blair said, "I think it's always been you and me, Jim. Always." 

* * *

Epilogue: 

Jim and Blair were lying together on the couch. The reality of sore backs and stressed knees had finally made itself known through the haze of post-orgasmic pleasure as they had come down from their emotional high. They hadn't bothered to clean up, unless Blair ripping Jim's ragged tee-shirt totally from his body and using it to make token wipes at both of their groins counted. 

Jim could still feel the semen drying and hardening on his ass, and gummy between his legs, but that was _nothing_ compared to the feel of Blair--full out on top of him. What's a little come between friends, he thought, and then immediately corrected it to 'lovers'. 

They had done a little more kissing and his dick had showed some interest, but the rest of him was begging for some sleep. He literally hadn't slept a wink, and after that explosive climax with Blair, and the loss of the anxiety that had kept him on edge the whole night, he felt like he had crash-landed after a mind-blowing freefall. 

"Hey, Jim." 

Blair suddenly piped up, head lifting from where it had been resting on Jim's chest, and Jim missed the constant soft exhale of breath that had been caressing his right nipple. He ignored Blair's question in hopes that his lover would return to the desired position. 

"Jim..." 

"Yeah, Chief," Jim said, deciding that the sooner he answered, the sooner they would be done talking. 

"You know, if this were an erotic novel, we would be screwing like mad right now, putting this sofa to good use. You would probably do me, since you'd be so anxious because of the feelings you've been holding in for so long, and you'd try to be gentle so that our first time wouldn't be painful for me, but in the end you wouldn't be able to control all of that animal lust inside you and you'd finish off hard and fast. And then we'd go into the shower and wash each other, rekindling the fires with kisses and soapy hands, until we couldn't stand it any longer and had to hurry upstairs for a long, slow lovemaking session in your big bed upstairs, which would result in making it _our_ big bed. So whaddya say? Wanna go for the storybook ending?" 

"Chief?" 

"Yeah?" 

"This is real life, and if you want to live long enough to actually _see_ that bed upstairs, much less fuck in it, you'd better settle your ass down right here. Get as comfortable as you can without cutting off the circulation in my arm or getting a cramp in your neck, and I'll pull this blanket down over us, so that your shivering won't keep me awake, and then I want you to be quiet for the next four hours, at least." 

"But, Jim -" 

" _And_ ," Jim continued, overriding whatever Blair had been going to say, "if you're _really_ good, and let me take a long shower when I wake up, followed by a decent meal, we can spend the rest of the night having a sexual _marathon_. We can write a book, make a movie, hell, you can put it to music if you want to. But in the meantime...go to sleep, Sandburg." 

"Very funny, Ellison. This isn't what a typical day in a relationship with you will be like, is it?" 

Jim just replied with a soft "Shhhhhh." 

Blair persisted. "Well, is it?" 

The only answer was Jim's snore. 

A minute later, even though he grumbled about the waste of a perfectly good Saturday afternoon, Blair also fell fast asleep, snoring loudly as he drooled on Jim's right nipple with a smile on his face. 

~end~ 


End file.
